


Pulling Her Close Again

by CalliLake



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: College AU, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Modern AU, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24158026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalliLake/pseuds/CalliLake
Summary: Adora and Catra reunite in college after years apart.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 129





	1. Dirty Pool

Greek row was a spectacle in August, and the lawn of Beta Rho Tau was no exception. It was a kaleidoscope of brightly colored bikinis, of women running through sprinklers, playing lawn volleyball, or lounging in the grass. Sunlight caught glass bottles and misty sprays of water, making rainbows and hazy yellow pools of light. The heat was energizing, gleaming and golden, electric.

Adora tipped her head back, letting the sun pour over her and the sounds rush across her skin. The Sunday afternoon was rich and warm, bright hot light washing across the cream-colored siding and lilac shutters of the sorority house - Adora’s house. She had to keep reminding herself of that. The deep rhythm of the music playing at the frat across the street reverberated under her, connecting her to the earth - it was loud enough to draw complaint, certainly, but that would come later in the day, when the sun went down and somebody called the cops. That’s what Glimmer said, anyway. 

Glimmer - she’d be back outside any second now. Adora narrowed her eyes, looking carefully across the crowd for that familiar head of pale pink hair. And there she was, wearing a lilac bikini and impossibly big gold-rimmed sunglasses, carrying two bottles of pink hair dye: Electric Paradise by Arctic Fox. Glimmer waved and beckoned, and Adora waved back, pushing herself up to run and join her best friend, joy bubbling in her chest like she was a shaken bottle of champagne. 

She jogged to Glimmer’s side. “You ready?”

Glimmer lifted up the bottles expressively. “Yeah! You’re sure you don’t mind coming inside and helping me color my hair instead of playing volleyball?”

“I’m off duty anyway.” Adora stretched her muscular arms up over her head. “Besides, it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to play lawn volleyball with my new sisters - I want them to like me, you know, not be mad at me because I spiked on them so many times.”

“That’s my Adora.” Glimmer nudged Adora affectionately with her shoulder, then turned to open the door. “I’m so glad you’re here now, I really missed you last year.”

Adora grinned. “Bow and I missed you too.” When Glimmer, who was a year older than her two best friends, graduated high school and went to college, Bow and Adora swore that they’d follow her as soon as they could. Now that they were there, it felt almost unreal, but Bow had made them a set of new and improved best friends squad bracelets to bring them into this new era, and Adora ran her fingers over the embroidery every time she thought she might be dreaming. “I wish he could come into the house with us.”

“He will,” Glimmer said, taking Adora by the wrist and pulling her through the open door, “once they make him an honorary member. We get a boy every year, and if it’s not Bow, I’ll riot. Everyone knows that. But besides that, he’s getting to know his new brothers anyway. It’s good for him.”

They clattered up the stairs into the second floor bathroom, where Glimmer dropped her armful of hair-art supplies down next to the stainless steel industrial sink - two boxes of dye, a mixing bowl, a brush, a pair of nitrile gloves, and a pink towel.

While Adora put the gloves on, Glimmer clipped the towel around her neck, then picked up her phone. “Want to help me find a date?”

“Always,” Adora said happily, opening the first box of Electric Paradise. 

Glimmer opened Tinder with a decisive tap. “Ooh, look, off to a great start. It’s that moody girl from Sigma Epsilon Alpha.” She held up the phone to Adora, who found herself looking at a picture of a pretty girl with navy blue sidebangs. Glimmer pulled the phone back down and read the profile aloud. “‘Threesome? Don’t be fucking boring.’ That’s all it says!” She laughed. “Left. I actually want to date someone this year.”

“Then what the hell are you doing on Tinder?”

“Shut up,” she said cheerfully. “You never know.”

Adora rolled her eyes, running the brush over Glimmer’s hair. “Guess not.”

Almost half of Glimmer’s hair was covered in color when she said, “Ooh.”

“What?”

Glimmer read out loud. “Butch4femme, not interested in hookups - looking for a girl to let me overhead press her every day for the rest of my life-” she cut herself off, looking up at Adora. “Look at her fucking arms.”

Adora looked. “Those are some serious fucking arms.” 

Glimmer kept reading. “Swipe right for board games, hot chocolate, and great hugs. P.S, my best friend is a single lesbian too but she won’t make an account. She’s in pic three. You can swipe right for her number as long as you’ll be my friend!” Glimmer laughed. “Okay, Scorpia, let’s see it.”

There was a pause as she swiped through the pictures.

“What do you think, Adora?”

Adora peered over Glimmer’s shoulder again. Then, the world began to slow down. Adora felt a change in her blood, a warmth in her brain, a twist in her stomach that she couldn’t identify, fear, perhaps, or longing, and she lost track of her arms. The photograph was neon-lit, taken in what must have been a bowling alley. Two women were sitting side by side - Scorpia was laughing, captured by the photographer with her head thrown back and one hand in her bleach-white hair, biceps catching the blue light. But Adora’s eyes barely skimmed over that and instead settled on the small, wiry woman beside her - she had one leg on the floor, the other tucked up on the chair, and she was leaning back against Scorpia, looking into the camera with a smile that seemed half-sincere and half-sarcastic. She was wearing a leather jacket pushed up over her freckled forearms, and her black hair was parted far to one side and cut in layers that fell nearly to her elbows. Adora, half-present in the world, was faintly aware of a rush of girls walking past the bathroom doors, but she felt like she was hearing them from the bottom of a pool, the sound muted.

Glimmer’s voice cut through the blood rushing in Adora’s ears. “Watch my fucking neck!”

Adora yanked the brush back. “Shit. Shit, Glimmer. That’s Catra.”

“Catra?” Glimmer gasped theatrically. “First kiss Catra?”

“Please don’t call her that.”

“You didn’t tell me she went to this university.”

“Do you think I knew that?”

“Fair,” Glimmer said, pulling the phone closer to her face to get a better look at Catra. “Did you know she got hot?”

“I haven’t seen her besides squinting at her Instagram profile pic since we were fourteen, so no, I did not.” Adora returned to painting Glimmer’s hair, scowling. “You know she stopped speaking to me after Razz and Mara brought me out here.”

“I knew you were making it up that she had two different colored eyes.”

“I was not!”

“These are both brown.”

“It’s the weird lighting,” Adora snapped. “Why are we talking about this, anyway? I haven’t seen her in almost five years, just swipe left and let’s pretend this never happened.”

Glimmer confidently swiped right.

“Dude!”

“You think I’m swiping left on Tall Hot McTriceps? Forget it, Adora.”

“Traitor,” Adora grumbled. “Whatever, just don’t bring me up if you go on a date. I don’t want to see Catra again. Ever.”

“Oh, we’re lying now? That’s what we’re doing?”

“Don’t push it. I could dye your face pink right now.”

Adora caught Glimmer’s eye-roll in the mirror as she said, “What happened to all the years of you talking about how much you wanted the chance to make up with her? And every time we went shopping and you picked up something black or red and sighed heavily-”

“I did NOT do that.”

“What did I just say about lying? I thought you wanted closure.”

“Yeah, when we were sixteen and it had been two years!” Adora realized her hands were shaking as she kept painting the dye onto Glimmer’s hair. She gritted her teeth and tried to focus. 

Glimmer didn’t say anything, just waited.

Eventually, Adora murmured, “Look, she’s grown up now. So am I. And she has a new best friend now, and you’re right, she looks great, and I just- I just- I can’t. It’s over.”

“Adora.” Glimmer reached up behind herself in a flash and caught Adora’s gloved wrist. “You didn’t date anyone all of high school because you were in love with her-”

Adora opened her mouth with the intent to protest, but decided against it.

“-and I know you thought about her all the time. I wasn’t there last year, but I figure it was more of the same. She’s in your head. She needs to pay rent or get out. I’m not saying you have to try to track her down and talk to her, but you don’t need to run away from her either, okay?”

Adora huffed. “You’re not just saying that because you want to date triceps girl?”

“That’s not NOT a factor, but you know I’d say the same thing no matter what.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right.” She paused, thinking for a moment. “Do you think I’ll see her?”

“Catra? Honestly, probably not, unless you go looking. This is a really big school, dude. Besides, we don’t even know she goes here - that picture could have been taken in Scorpia’s hometown, or something. Or maybe Catra lives here but isn’t in university...” her voice trailed off.

“Yeah, there’s lots of options.” Adora sighed. “Do you… do you think she’s still mad at me?”

“Based on what you’ve told me about her? Yeah. But who cares? She was mean as all hell to you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I left her with that awful woman-”

“You were a kid! You got adopted! You didn’t have any control over that! And if she doesn’t understand that, it’s her problem. Are you sure I shouldn’t just ask Scorpia for her number and you can talk to her?”

“Don’t even joke about that. How are you so sure you’re going to match with her, anyway?”

Glimmer laughed as she reached for a towel to wrap her hair in. “Please. No one swipes left on a Beta Rho Tau.”

* * * * 

The night grew darker and more humid, the sunset painting the shutters deep red. Adora leaned out of the window, looking across the lawn at the headlights sliding by, listening to the distant sounds of music and laughter. Girls ran down the sidewalk, shrieking and shouting, calling after their friends as they went in packs towards the frat houses, lit by yellow street lamps and the orange fading sun, stars just barely beginning to open their eyes in the darkening sky and gaze down at the revelry. 

Adora pulled her head back inside. “I can’t believe you’re getting dressed up this nice to go drink beer in a dirty basement.”

“Excuse you. I’m going to drink vodka sodas in a dirty basement.” Glimmer closed her eyes. “Do my wings match?”

After a close inspection, Adora said, “Yes. What should I wear on top?”

Glimmer gave Adora’s dark, ripped jeans and red bra a once-over. “You’re good like that.”

“Flattering, but a non-option. I would wear my new tank top out, but I understand that if I wear letters to go drinking I’ll get ritually sacrificed?”

“Uh-huh. Leave the BRT stuff here, even the hat. Um…” She looked over at Adora’s closet. “That varsity-style bomber jacket you have, the red and white one? Over that tight white crop top I got you last year. Let everybody see your abs.”

“You’re right, as always.” Adora got dressed, watching as Glimmer carefully fastened a lilac silk choker around her neck in the mirror, and then arranged the pearl pendant hanging from it over the hollow of her throat. She was wearing black thigh-high boots, a short black skater skirt, and a long-sleeved, deep purple top that was the perfect shade to bring attention to her bright pink hair and glamorous pink and purple cut crease. “Are you sure you want to go out? You’re too pretty to have boys look at you.”

“Some girls are bi, Adora,” Glimmer said, grinning. “But you’re right. Men don’t deserve me.” She looked at herself appreciatively in the mirror.

“No one does,” Adora said, pushing the sleeves of her jacket up to her elbows. “What do you think?”

“I think you look ridiculously hot with your hair down.”

Adora’s hand immediately went self-consciously to her hair. “Are you sure? I’m so used to having it up I-”

“It looks great. I thought I was going to have to bully you into taking it down.”

Adora laughed. “This is college, you know? New stuff. Speaking of college though, I’m still kind of shocked that we’re going out the night before classes start.”

“Syllabus week is the biggest party week of the year,” Glimmer said matter of factly. “But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I’ll come home with you whenever you want. I know how you are about grades.”

“I dunno. We’ll see how I feel when I get out there.” Adora walked over to the window and stuck her head back out. “I like seeing people.”

“You like seeing girls, you mean,” Glimmer said. “There will be plenty of those. Which Gloss Bomb should I wear?”

“Um, Fussy.”

“Always a good choice.” Glimmer swiped it across her lips and then tucked it into her bra. “Okay, let’s bounce!”

Adora had felt chronically underdressed next to Glimmer since they met years ago, but tonight, Adora had to admit that she felt great. She felt every bit the star athlete with her abs on display, tight jeans showing off her thick, muscular legs - even though she wasn’t particularly tall, her impressive jump meant she still got to play front row once in a while. A painful twinge ran through her - had she earned that volleyball scholarship? Was she really even good? She tried to clear her head with a quick shake, but the insecurity slunk into her stomach and curled there, getting comfortable. 

Oh well, she thought. A drink or two tonight would take care of that problem temporarily, and other than that, just keep working out and practicing as much as she already was, or more, maybe. She’d be captain by her junior year. She would. 

She followed Glimmer down the street towards the party, listening to Glimmer talking as she pulled out her phone. “Bow texted me about twenty minutes ago, he says the party’s in full swing already. He says he’s made friends with their president and that we’ll find them dancing… that’s not surprising.”

“Do you know him?”

“The KKL president?” Glimmer turned off the sidewalk into the lawn. Adora felt heavy bass rumbling underfoot. “Yeah, casually. He won Greek God last year.” She pulled Adora up the stairs to the front door and knocked firmly. “I don’t know what his real name is, everybody just calls him-”

The door opened, and a skinny blonde boy with a decidedly freshman look about him poked his head out. “Who do you know here?” He asked.

Glimmer looked indignant. “Everyone?”

“Um, I don’t think-”

A disembodied hand appeared, grabbed the boy’s collar, and yanked him out of sight. Adora and Glimmer both leaned forward to eavesdrop, and heard a male voice say, “For fuck’s sake, Kyle. I told you to get me if someone knocked. Also, your boss is downstairs, and she said, how did she put it? Oh yeah, if you’re not there to chalk her cue in the next three minutes, she’s going to rip out your eyes and rack them. Get out of here.”

A flurry of apologies followed, and then a tall young man stepped out and said “Who do you kn- oh, more Bright House girls. Come on in, Glimmer.”

Glimmer, her ruffled feelings soothed, smiled brightly and stepped inside with her chin held at a royal angle. Adora followed, looking around wide-eyed.

It was standing room only in the living room, couches pushed to the side to make room for the beer pong table and the crowd watching, cheering and booing in equal measure as the game unfolded. She followed Glimmer through the crowd, past the girls sitting on the couches, whisper-yelling to each other to try to keep their secrets and hear each other over the music at the same time. A few girls from BRT that Adora half-recognized waved at Glimmer as they walked by, and Glimmer waved back, kissing her fingers at them playfully. Shouldering through the crowded hallway, narrowly dodging the cans and cups in the hands of the partygoers, they came to the half-lit room that held the speakers, the thrumming music so loud that Adora felt like her brain was being shaken. Dancers jumped and swayed, singing and shouting. Glimmer took her hand, and as the bass mixed with her heartbeat Adora pushed through the dancers, smelling sweat and alcohol and perfume, clinging tightly to Glimmer, until she stumbled up against a table.

She looked up. There was Bow, jumping up and down to the beat, laughing, next to a much older looking young man who was flossing with abandon. Glimmer reached out and smacked Bow firmly on the calf.

He looked down and his eyes lit up. One at a time, he pulled Glimmer and Adora up onto the table beside him, Adora’s stomach twisted with nerves as she clasped her hand around his forearm, letting herself be pulled into a hug. Bow twirled her under his arm, and she started laughing, nerves dissipating in the face of his familiar friendliness.

“Sea Hawk!” He yelled over the bass. “These are my best friends!” 

The young man stopped mid-floss. He shouted, “drinks?” 

“What?”

“Drinks!”

“Yes please!” Glimmer yelled back.

Before Adora knew what was happening, she found herself sitting on a dingy couch, halfway into a vodka Red Bull that was more vodka than Red Bull, listening to Bow and Glimmer gossip about Sea Hawk. Something felt strange, she thought as she drank, and it wasn’t just that she knew she would feel like hell in the morning. The nerves in her stomach felt like more than her normal fear of being awkward, but the alcohol began to dissolve them as she listened to the music and chatter. She started absently chewing on the rim of her red cup.

Glimmer smacked her on the thigh. “Want to finish that and come dance?”

“Uh, you guys go ahead,” she said. “I’ll be there in a bit.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Just taking it in, I guess.”

“Don’t leave the house without me, okay? I’ll check on you soon if I don’t see you on the dance floor.”

“Sounds good!”

“Oh,” Bow said before Glimmer pulled him away, “some of the guys are playing pool in the basement. You might like that better!”

“I sure might,” Adora said, watching them push into the crowd. She got up, holding her cup close to her chest, and began searching for the stairs, feeling pleasantly warm and tipsy. The crowd thinned as she made her way towards the back of the house, the music fading to a dull roar as she saw the warm orange lamplight pouring up the staircase towards her feet. Her heart pitched in her chest, and she let herself be pulled down, her pulse quickening, the plastic cup in her hand creaking as she tightened her grip around it. The music was quiet enough that she could hear her footsteps on the bottom few steps, before she rounded the corner into a carpeted den, where an old, scratched-up pool table sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by a group of people who weren’t quite as tightly packed as the beer pong crowd upstairs. 

Adora hesitated in the doorway, looking around at the wood-paneled walls covered with composite photos of decades of pledge classes, the ratty couches against the walls, and the stained carpet. She could see a door to her left that must have led to the room where the speaker was - the music wasn’t nearly as deafening as it was upstairs. But for some reason, she found herself frozen in the doorway, looking over the people casually drinking at chatting.

It’s just pool, she thought to herself, nothing to be this worked up about. 

She took a small step to the side and leaned back against the wall, squeezing her cup. She looked into the crowd, breathing in the stale basement air, for a moment missing Glimmer and wondering where she and Bow were, but deciding that she didn’t want to lose her nerve - she would rather stay in this basement, even if she was alone. Besides, everyone was right. She really would rather be here than upstairs dancing. It had been a while since she played a good game of pool.

She rubbed her forearm absently, her fingers skimming across goosebumps. She looked down at her pale skin and scattered freckles, frowning. If it was nothing to be so worked up about, then why did this room feel electric? She finished her drink in a few big swallows and let her fist close around the empty cup, making the plastic crackle, and she wondered absently just how much had been in it. Not enough to keep her from being a nervous wreck. No, not a nervous wreck - just nervous. Regular nervous. 

There was a smattering of applause and a few whoops, and Adora looked up at the woman standing behind the table, holding up her cue triumphantly. “That’s enough for me,” she said loudly, “I’m tired of winning.”

A familiar-looking boy said, “Lonnie, the boss said she wants to play you next.”

“I play her every weekend.” Lonnie flipped her shoulder-length dreads over her shoulder. “She can wait a week. I’m going upstairs.” She started heading that way, but stopped right in front of Adora, where she was nervously leaning against the wall. She looked at her for a long moment. “You play, Blondie?”

“Um,” Adora said. “A little bit, I-”

Lonnie pushed the cue into her hand. “You’re up.” She went up the stairs without looking back.

Adora looked at the boy. He looked back. “Oh, you’re the kid from the door!”

“Yeah,” he said, glancing away. “Do you actually want to play?”

The strange electric feeling in Adora’s chest didn’t match the energy in the room. It was relaxed, filled with a low hum of voices, friends talking to each other, and as Adora looked at it through the gradually intensifying fuzz in her brain she found herself nodding. “Yeah,” she said. “I’ll play.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said, and started towards the doorway to the left of the pool table, grabbing the other cue en route. Adora found that her feet weren’t stuck to the floor anymore and she walked to the table, touching the wood, feeling a little more wobbly than she had when she came down the stairs. She set her empty cup with several others on a side table and stared at the green velvet. Green, green velvet, like the lawns outside where she had walked with Glimmer, and really did her heart have to be beating so loud she could hear it in her ears? Why did she feel so-

“I’m back,” said Kyle's voice.

Adora turned. 

She barely saw him standing there. Beside him, holding a pool cue in one hand and a silver flask in the other, stood a woman wearing a black tank top and dark jeans, who was staring at Adora with two sharp, brown eyes. She ran one hand through her straight black hair, the dingy basement light catching the silver studs on her black leather bracelets. The muscles in her arms were so cut and lean, the freckles on her shoulders were so familiar, and the way she grinned so sharp when she said-

“Hey, Adora.”

“Catra.”

“Do you two know ea-”

Without looking away from Adora, Catra shoved Kyle aside so decisively that he staggered several steps and might have gone all the way to the floor if someone hadn’t grabbed him.

“Been a while, hasn’t it.” She took a step forward, closer to Adora, looking her in the eyes.

“A while,” Adora repeated. The vodka told her to say it had been too long, but she didn’t listen. She could have reached out and touched-

“Why are you here?”

“I live up the street.”

“As in, like, Greek row?” Catra laughed sharply. “God, it figures. You and all your princess private school friends, right?”

“You’re here too, Catra,” Adora snapped. “So why are you here?”

“None of your fucking business,” Catra said in a cheerful tone, “And I think-”

“What happened to your eyes?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your eyes. They used to-”

Catra's voice went sharp. “Nothing is like it used to be, Adora” 

“Are you fucking serious, Catra? You’re still mad at me? It’s been four years!”

“Four years isn’t that long when you consider that I was hoping to never see you again.” She rolled her eyes, that half-smile and her cool, aloof tone returning after a moment of absence. 

“What happened wasn’t my fault, Catra!”

“Oh, I don’t care.” Her voice was low and smooth, her eyes locked on Adora’s as she took another step forward. Adora backed up and bumped against the pool table. “I only care that you didn’t think about me for one second after you left.”

“That’s not true!”

“I said I don’t care. Do you? That’s a little sad, don’t you think?” 

There was a long pause, the air crackling between them. Catra slowly spun her cue with one hand.

“Let’s play pool.”

Adora’s blood rang in her ears. She would have answered, but before she could, she heard a voice from behind her. “Adora, what are you - oh my god.”

Catra didn’t pull her eyes from Adora’s. “Here’s a princess now,” she murmured.

Glimmer grabbed Adora by her elbow. “I think we should go.”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said and we can talk about it at home. Come on.”

Catra wiggled her fingers playfully, that infuriating half-smile still on her mouth. “Bye.”

Adora turned sharply away.

“You said to be brave,” she grumbled as Glimmer pulled her up the stairs.

“Yes, and I’m a bad sister that I let your lightweight ass wander off three shots deep. Thank God I decided to look for you when I did. This has been a problem for years and you’re not going to resolve it drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!”

They pushed their way back through the party and out the door. “You aren’t sober either. I’m sorry, Adora.”

Adora tripped on the bottom stair. 

“Okay,” Glimmer said, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Let’s get home.”

“Home,” Adora repeated, and followed Glimmer up the street in the humid starlight. 

* * * * 

She told Glimmer everything over twenty ounces of water, while pacing around their room, more or less without crying. Glimmer sat on a still-unpacked cardboard box, nodding thoughtfully. 

“So, we know she goes to school here now.”

“We don’t know that. She didn’t answer my question.”

“I can’t think of any other reason she’d be at a frat party.”

Adora kicked a half-empty box. “I guess you’re right.”

“Are you okay?”

“I mean, no? She only stopped smirking at me for like, one second. I was the one raising my voice. I don’t- I don’t get it, dude. It’s like it barely even bothered her.”

“I’m sure it bothered her,”

Adora kicked the box again, harder. “I don’t think so.”

“I think you just need to relax and go to bed. It’ll seem better in the morning.”

“Dunno how I’m supposed to relax.”

“Why don’t you go take a bath?” Glimmer got up and began rifling through one of her drawers. “I have some lavender epsom salts in here you can borrow, that’ll knock you out cold.”

Adora smiled. “You used to let me use that in high school, too.”

“I remember.”

“You’re right, too. We can talk more tomorrow.” Glimmer glanced at her phone. “It’s barely midnight, you’re good for a while since your first class isn’t until eleven.”

“Hell yeah. Thanks, Glimmer.”

Glimmer made finger guns. “You got it.”

Adora’s mind kept wandering to Catra as she padded barefoot to the upstairs bathroom, across the heated tile floor, down the row of shower stalls to the very last stall, where there was a big, square bathtub tucked into the corner. She locked the stall door behind her and turned on the bath, humming to herself to try to keep her racing thoughts at bay. She peeled herself out of her outfit - at least she’d looked good when Catra saw her, although she hadn’t seen Catra so much as glance down at her body - and sprinkled salt into the bathtub before stepping in and settling down into the hot water. 

She tipped her head back against the wall, letting the smell of lavender envelop her. God, it wasn’t fair how good Catra looked in black. She looked stronger now too, a lot stronger, and Adora remembered the play fights they’d had as kids, and if they tried it again now, it would be a lot harder to pin Catra down. A whole lot harder. 

Adora’s eyes fell shut.

She’d been wearing a leather jacket in that bowling alley picture. Did she wear those cuff bracelets with it? Leather combat boots? Those kinds of things had always suited Catra, dark and hard and rough around the edges. Tough. Adora’s hand strayed down her thigh under the water. What had Catra been doing all these years to get a body like that? Martial arts? Gymnastics? If Catra hadn’t hated her, if she could just have asked, she would have. Even if Catra did hate her… if… 

If Catra had taken another step forward, Adora wouldn’t have had anywhere left to go, backed up against the pool table, and if Catra had dropped her pool cue and taken a drink from that flask and pushed her body up against Adora’s, Adora wouldn’t have hand any other choice but to tangle her hands in that long, dark hair and pull Catra up into a kiss, pulling her lithe body in tight and running a hand across her back. 

Adora’s breath hitched. Her hand slid between her legs, her toes curling as she imagined grabbing Catra by the thighs, picking her up and turning her around so she sat on the edge of the pool table, kissing her so hard she wouldn’t even be able to think about smirking in that unaffected infuriating way, tasting like… dark liquor, probably. As Adora’s fingers began rubbing her clit she saw herself pushing Catra backward, climbing on top of her and pinning her down by the wrists, kissing the freckles on her shoulders. To get her hands under that black tank top, to feel the body underneath, touch her and breathe her in and press down against her and as Adora’s back arched and the water caressed her body she imagined herself grinding against Catra’s thigh, kissing her desperately, and-

The orgasm caught her somewhat by surprise, and her small gasp echoed off of the bright white walls. For a moment, she was completely immersed in pleasure, and then as the smell of lavender brought her back to the present, she opened her eyes. 

She stared at the wall for a few moments as the water settled around her, and then, softly, to the tiled floor and the soothing water and the fluffy purple towel hanging on a silver hook, she said, “Uh-oh.”


	2. Group Projetcs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra spends some time thinking about Adora, and goes to class.

The door to Catra’s apartment crashed open, the bang echoing through the breezeway. She slammed it closed even harder and then threw her keys across the living room, where they hit the drywall with a metallic clatter and fell to the floor. “Scorpia!”

A moment later, Catra’s roommate stepped out of her bedroom, wearing a red tank top and grey joggers. “Everything okay, Wildcat?”

Catra looked around for something else to throw. The apartment was fairly barren, so she settled for clenching her fists. “Absolutely fucking not.”

“I’ll get the mitts.” 

“Thank you,” Catra said through gritted teeth. 

Scorpia came out into their living room, wearing a set of boxing mitts on her enormous hands. Scorpia was well over six feet tall, completely dwarfing Catra, who was pacing around the room glaring at the walls and generally looking furious. 

Their apartment was small, with eggshell walls and a carpet that may once have been cream, but was now a dismal shade of brown. The dining table, if you could call it that, was piled with a mix of textbooks and strange contraptions that looked entirely out of place in an undergraduate kitchen. Catra glared at the table, glared at the walls, glared at the carpet, and then glared at Scorpia.

“Get to it, Wildcat. What happened?”

Catra lunged, striking again and again at the mitts, her small fists barely budging the arms of her muscular roommate. “Stupid - Adora - was at the stupid - party,” she hissed, giving up on her punching form and instead slapping at Scorpia’s outstretched mitt with open hands. “I made the fucking mistake of talking - to her - like some kind of - idiot,” she said, panting.

“Adora? First kiss Adora? She goes to school here?” 

“Don’t fucking - call her that - and yeah - apparently - she does!” 

“Dude.” Scorpia looked down at Catra pityingly. “That sucks.” 

“Yeah - no kidding!” Catra pulled back into proper form and swung again, fist connecting with the mitt with a solid smack. Vision blurring with anger, she swung again and again, words dissolving into furious hissing as her instincts and body took over, unwrapped hands colliding with the mitt until her knuckles bled. And Adora’s face still would not leave her mind. Crying out in frustration she grabbed the mitt with both hands, forgetting momentarily that it was attached to Scorpia. She was determined to win the fight against this leather nemesis, and pulled it close to her chest in her fury. 

Scorpia lifted her about a foot off the ground with what seemed like no effort. Catra hung from her arm, feet dangling. “You’re bleeding, Wildcat.”

Catra bit into the leather.

“Hey!” Scorpia dislodged her with a shake, and Catra landed gracefully, glaring up at her roommate.

“I’m fine!” She moved quickly forward to take another swing, but Scorpia scooped her up into a hug before she could punch. Catra found herself crushed in Scorpia’s arms, glaring into her bicep.

Scorpia either couldn’t sense Catra’s ire or did not care. “I’d let you tire yourself out, but I can’t have you hurting yourself that much. At least let me wrap your hands before you keep going,” she said gently, trying her best to stroke Catra’s hair with a boxing mitt. 

Catra felt comforted in spite of herself, but refused to let it last. She wriggled protestingly away from the pats. “I think I just want to go to my room. Put my headphones on to drown out the clanging.”

“It’s been quiet tonight, actually,” Scorpia said. “Well, except for you.”

“Quiet? Is Entrapta out, or something?”

“No, but I think she’s planning on going out.”

“That isn’t like her.”

“I know, but she said she had a raving party. It’s funny, I can’t really imagine her at a rave, but I guess all the sound equipment might appeal-”

Catra’s eyes narrowed. “Is it possible she said she has a raiding party?”

“I guess.”

“That makes more sense.” She waved a hand. “We won’t hear anything out of her until two, at least.”

“You don’t plan on being up that late, right?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

Scorpia gave her a concerned look. “We’re running a PFT in the morning. Gunnery Sergeant Hordak won’t be happy with you if you don’t do well. You were supposed to work out all summer.”

“For your information, I did work out all summer. And you can say Gunny, you know, it’s just us,” Catra said, rolling her brown eyes. Then, she blinked. “I’m gonna take my contacts out.”

Scorpia followed her to the bathroom. “Fine, Gunny Hordak won’t be happy. I just don’t want to see you get screamed at in front of all the freshmen.”

“We all get screamed at eventually.” 

“Day one of classes, though?”

“They saw me last week.” Catra leaned close to the mirror and took out her contacts. Her one blue and one brown eye looked back at her, but they mercifully blurred as she took the small, tinted lenses off and set them down, so she didn’t have to look too closely at the sad expression that filled them. She had been wearing glasses and contacts since childhood, but she didn’t get colored ones until the year Adora left. She gripped the edge of the sink. “Scorpia, I…”

“Wash those scrapes,” Scorpia said softly. She still somehow managed to look gentle, even with her arms crossed and her big hands covered with boxing mitts. “What is it?”

Catra stuck her hands into the cool water. “I don’t know,” she said. “I guess I just thought I’d never have to see her again.”

“Did you tell her you miss her?”

“I did not, because I don’t.”

Scorpia pursed her lips, but didn’t argue. “And what if you see her again?”

“I don’t know.” Catra slid through the doorway and started in the direction of her bedroom. “Stay out of her way, I guess. I should’ve run the other way when O’Brien pointed me at her, but-”

“Wait, that skinny little freshman found her? How’d he know you know her? You didn’t actually tell me what happened.”

Catra relayed the story as she walked past the door to the room Scorpia and Entrapta shared - it was covered in anime posters, because Scorpia was either completely nice or a complete pushover, they’d known each other a year now and Catra still hadn’t figured out which - and into Catra’s small bedroom. Catra leaped from the doorway into the bed, rolling into the pillows.

Still listening, Scorpia pulled off the mitts and flexed her hands. She sat cross-legged on the floor, looking up at Catra as she ran a hand thoughtfully through her short, bleached hair. “Do you think she’d have played with you if her pink-haired friend hadn’t dragged her off?”

“I don’t know.” Catra squeezed a pillow to her chest. “Maybe.”

“Did you want to play with her?”

“I wanted to beat her.”

Catra could have sworn she saw Scorpia roll her eyes, but that would have been so unusual she dismissed it as a trick of the light. “Catra, you know she might miss you, right?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“It’s a normal thing, you know, missing old friends.”

“What would you know about that? It’s not like you have any.”

Scorpia winced, but kept pushing. “Maybe if you talked to her, she’d explain why-”

“I don’t want to know why!”

The room was quiet for a moment. Catra felt the familiar, painful twist in her stomach she always got when she raised her voice at Scorpia, who was now looking down at her short nails. Even looking down, Catra could still see the hurt in her eyes. Those huge, brown, stupid, baby-cow eyes. Damn it. Catra gritted her teeth. 

“Why would I want to know why she left me? She doesn’t want me, I don’t want her, that’s the end of it.”

“I guess,” Scorpia said. “Do you want cookies? I can make some.”

“That’s okay.” Catra snuggled the pillow up closer to her chin. 

“Cookies or sleep, it’s your call, but I’m not just going to let you sit there and feel sad all night.”

Catra smiled a tiny smile in spite of herself. “I’ll sleep. See you in like, six hours.”

“Oof, yeah. Night, Wildcat.”

“Night.”

Scorpia closed the door on her way out, and Catra was left staring at the ceiling. She dug her nails into the pillow. She wouldn’t admit it, but she really missed the long, sharp acrylics she’d worn before she joined the NROTC, but giving up her black nails was a small price to pay for being able to actually go to college and get the hell out of that house. She’d do it again, even if it was much less satisfying to dig her fingertips into a pillow.

She’d do it again. She came up with the plan in the middle of the summer after eighth grade, right after Adora left, sitting on the swingset alone in the park of the neighborhood elementary school. Her fingers were wrapped around the sun-hot chains, the tips of her nails brushing the heels of her hands, and she stared straight ahead with her mismatched gaze out past the playground to the shimmering horizon. She wasn’t smart - she knew that because everyone told her - so an academic scholarship was out of the question. She’d never been a good athlete, either, even though she loved working out, she had never gotten along with her teammates and quit out of frustration as she watched everyone fall in love with Adora around her. So, no sports scholarship either. But she wanted to go to college - everyone talked about it like it was magical, and when she walked through the local campus, she saw all the students, even the people who were dressed so strangely they never would have fit in in middle school, walking around with friends, looking so… happy. 

Besides, Adora wanted to go to college, and back then, Catra still had hope of finding Adora again, so they could be roommates like they’d always talked about. But as the months of summer went by and Adora never called, as the hours that Catra spent patiently sitting by the landline waiting racked up and up, her sadness turned to anger turned to hatred.

And so she made a plan. And that plan had brought her here, to this tiny bedroom, pulling her green on green out of the closet to set out for the morning - olive shorts and an olive shirt, with that stupid glow belt and short, white socks. Scorpia had gotten her in the habit of setting out her PT gear the night before - Scorpia cared about things like that, about preparedness. Scorpia cared about everything. 

The plan. The first day of her freshman year of high school she had walked into the guidance counselor’s office and asked how she could get out in three years. She explained that she wanted to be a Marine, that she would get an NROTC scholarship, go to college, graduate, and then be an officer, and a good one too, because she was tough, and that was all that mattered. And she did it. She wasn’t a great student, but she shrugged off electives and instead took only classes she needed to graduate. She made no friends, only spending time at the gym, and occasionally the recruiting office. She was a recruiter’s dream - an angry kid from a dirt-poor home who would help him hit his quota for females. He helped her out. And now, here she was, eighteen - nineteen in a few months - and a sophomore, making better grades in college than she ever had before, all wiry muscles and a sharp glare, a loud voice and a bad attitude. A lot of the other Midshipmen feared her, but they respected her, Scorpia loved her, and even her superiors praised her for her pull-ups from time to time. She had felt like she was starting to make something of herself at last.

And then, stupid Adora. Stupid fucking Adora. 

She changed into a tank top and shorts for bed, washed her makeup off, and crawled into her pile of pillows in the darkness. She glowered to herself. Adora almost never wore her hair down when they were young, but Catra had always liked it that way. She didn’t look so uptight when she let it down around her shoulders, that honey blonde that shone golden in the sun. _She had worn it down that day in the late spring, just a few months before she left. They were playing “The Princess Bride” in the woods behind the school, one dramatic scene at a time - they knew all the lines. Well, to be fair, Adora did most of the knowing. Catra played Westley, and Adora played Inigo, fencing with sticks, giggling and chasing each other. They moved deeper into the woods, Adora switching to Fezzik, putting on a deep voice that made Catra laugh so loud she scared the birds away. And then, of course, the scene with the wine, where Adora switched back and forth between princess and captor, until at last Catra rescued her, and they ran to the small hill just, where Adora pushed Catra, who rolled down the hill shouting “As you wish,” just as they had dozens of times._

_But that day, as Adora rolled down the hill after her and then crashed against her side in the soft grass, their laughter faded as Adora pushed herself up on her hands. Catra stayed on her back, looking up into Adora’s bright eyes. They looked at each other for a long moment, the air warm and full of the smell of new flowers, dandelion puffs carried past their faces in the languid breeze._

_“We could do the kiss scene,” Adora said thoughtfully. “If you want.”_

_Catra’s heart pitched, but she didn’t say anything, just looked up at Adora, eyes wide._

_Adora cleared her throat. “I’m just saying we don’t have to skip it. It’s in the story, and I know that we - we like to get it right.”_

_“Yeah,” Catra said, collecting her wits. “Yeah, I… I think we should. For the story.”_

_“For the story,” Adora repeated._

_Catra reached up for her face, nails skimming the soft skin of her cheek. As Adora leaned down, her golden hair brushed Catra’s face and neck, and Catra felt her eyes fall shut as Adora kissed her - gently, somewhat clumsily. Catra’s hand slid up into her hair, softer than silk, softer than the grass she lay on, and then it was over, Adora sitting back up, face fiery red._

_“Um, Westley,” she said. “Fire swamp?”_

_“As you wish.”_

In her bed, her pillow crushed against her chest, Catra pressed her face into her blankets and wept. 

* * * * 

“You feeling better, Wildcat?”

Catra tried to glare at Scorpia, but gave up. It isn’t easy to glare at someone who has spent their morning making you breakfast and then cheering you on, no matter how much of an obnoxious, nosy person they are being. “A little, yeah,” she admitted. She adjusted herself on the cold, metal bleachers. She’d run a 260 - by no means her best, but not bad, and certainly not bad enough to be embarrassed in front of the freshmen. As if the green shirt tucked into the green shorts weren’t embarrassing enough. 

“I made us a surprise,” Scorpia said happily, hefting the bag she carried in her right hand. “Brunch! I thought we could sit outside and eat after we change, and then we can head to our eleven o’clock.” 

Catra perked up. “Oh, yeah! Thanks!”

Scorpia glowed, as she always did in the rare event that Catra thanked her. “Sure!”

Thoughts of food in her head, Catra hurried into the nearby building and changed into her clothes for class: an unbuttoned, silky looking short-sleeved black button up over a dark red ribbed tank top, all tucked into dark jean shorts with a studded belt, and Docs. She and Scorpia did their eyeliner side by side in the mirror, talking about the freshmen - “Were we ever that small? No, right?” - and then they walked together to the grass in front of the admin building to eat the brunch Scorpia had packed. 

“Let’s see, egg and bacon sandwiches, chips, some strawberries, ah, these are still kinda frozen, and-” she pulled out a Hydroflask, shaking it invitingly so the ice rattled, and then whispered- “mimosas.”

“How do you do it, Scorpia?” 

She smiled. “It’s just fun.”

Catra had already begun stuffing sandwich in her mouth. 

“Are you excited for Existentialist Metaphysics?”

“No,” Catra said around her mouthful of sandwich. Scorpia was a philosophy major, and since Catra was currently majoring in capital-u Undecided, she had taken to signing up for a class or two with Scorpia. She wasn’t about to admit to enjoying it, though. 

“I am,” Scorpia said happily. 

Catra rolled her eyes. 

They found their classroom, a fairly petite hall that looked meant to seat less than a hundred people. A 200-level class would probably only fill half of these seats, even on the first day of classes. After a short argument, Catra grumpily followed Scorpia to seats in the front row. Unfortunately, this meant that she didn’t see any of the other students come in, as she pulled her notebooks out and listened to Scorpia talk excitedly about how she’d met this professor at a department function and he seemed great. Unfortunately, said professor didn’t take attendance at the beginning of class, and, unfortunately, as he read through the syllabus, Catra didn’t even think to look behind her until-

“Alright, if you’ll just turn the page, you’ll see the next section, which is on your midterm presentation. We will be having many debates in this class, and for this presentation, you’ll be working in pairs, and presenting on your differences of opinion about whatever topic you choose from this list. The most interesting thoughts come from disagreement, don’t you think? Anyhow, I’ll be assigning partners for this, and that will double as taking attendance, so when you hear your name, raise your hand, and make sure you see your partner so you can find each other and trade numbers after class.”

Catra hated group projects, but arguing with a partner for a grade didn’t sound so bad. She skimmed the list of topics and grinned at “existential angst” and “creating the self.” Interesting. Then, she heard her name.

“Catarina Romero? There you are. And your partner will be Adora Clemensen. Adora? Yes, thank you.”

No, no, no, no, surely not, surely that couldn’t be right, but as Catra slowly turned and saw Adora in the crowd, hand raised, looking equally petrified, her stomach dropped. Adora wore her hair down again, an inane thought to have in the face of a crisis, but there it was. Catra turned back around and mouthed “fuck” with as much feeling as she could without drawing anyone’s attention. 

She spent the rest of class in a daze. It ended early. She only half heard the professor tell everyone to find their partners. Ignoring Scorpia asking her if she wanted any help, she pushed through the crowd, out into the hall and then out the front door. She found a tree a few steps away from the sidewalk, dropped her bag on the roots, and leaned against the trunk to wait for Adora.

The sunlight streamed through the leaves and dappled the ground. Catra saw Adora first, as planned. She wore a confused expression, along with a peach pantsuit over a low-cut, white lace top, delicate gold hoop earrings, and heels. Catra also noticed a pin glittering on her lapel. 

Catra raised her voice. “Hey, Adora.”

She jumped, almost overbalancing in her shoes. She walked over, not making eye contact until she got there. “Catra.” She immediately looked away again.

They stood in awkward silence. Catra hadn’t planned this far. 

“So,” Adora said. “Are you okay? With this?”

“No. Are you?”

“Not really.” She looked up, like she often did when she was nervous, and the patterns of light dancing across her face made Catra’s stomach flip. “Can we try anyway?”

“I don’t think we have another choice.”

“I could ask the professor, maybe.”

“You want to get away from me that badly?”

“No.” Adora was looking at her feet, and Catra narrowed her eyes. Was she blushing? No, right? “I think we can be adults. I mean, I can if you can.”

“Well, I can,” Catra snapped. “I don’t want to, but I can.”

Adora glared up at her. “I don’t want to either!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Another silence. Then Adora said, “So, can I have your number, then?”

Catra silently held out her hand. Adora placed her phone there, open to contacts. Catra put her number in, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her hands from shaking. “You can just text me,” she said, handing it back. “We can get this project over with fast if we try.”

“Yeah,” Adora said. “Um, see you later, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

Catra watched her go, and waited until she was completely out of sight to slide down the tree and put her head in her hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I love writing Catra. She has some serious feelings.
> 
> Thank you everyone who left comments and/or kudos on chapter one! You gave me motivation to keep the story going and I really appreciate you <3
> 
> I made a tumblr, and writing requests for one-shots are open. It's callilake.tumblr.com if you're interested!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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